A Passion for the Fight
by Lady Danar
Summary: Yassen Gregorovich and John Rider trained together during their time with SCORPIA but neither of them were ever part of the organisation. Fighting and slash... enjoy! not betaed, sorry but I'm lazy :P


With a thud Hunter was thrown into the far wall of the cell, his spine stinging with the sudden brutal contact with the concrete. It was wet and dripping from a leak somewhere in the roof of the old building, even though the walls were concrete the roof was just made of cheap wood making the whole shelter barely habitable yet sturdy. The shack was in the middle of a forest somewhere in Poland, where exactly was entirely unknown to Hunter, where was in fact irrelevant when the door was bolted and padlocked... from the outside

He looked across the tiny cell at the younger man bracing himself against the opposite wall; after the powerful kick to the chest that had pushed Hunter back Cossack had given himself chance to catch his breath. As Hunter forced his weariness to the back of his mind and pulled himself upright from his slouched position against the wall he noticed than Cossack was breathing heavily still. The Russian had been training for several months but all in all he was still only a teenager and Hunter struggled against the temptation to play down his own attack when they fought together.

But then with a sudden renewed energy Cossack darted forward into a new attack, clipping him with a deft right hook followed by a untidy but effective knee to the abdomen which nearly bought Hunter down. Only nearly however, as Hunter had quickly recovered from the surprise attack and neatly blocked Cossack's next three moves and replied with a right hook of his own that sent Cossack into the wall. But before the more experience fighter could pine the fair-haired Russian down, Cossack swiftly ducked out of the way and spun with a dancers grace behind Hunter. Then he sent Hunter to his knees with a blow to his lower.

Cossack straightened up and stepped back, a triumphant glint showing in his eyes as he let out a strangely cold laugh that didn't suit him.

"Getting slow in your old age, John?" he smirked, jesting as if this were just a normal training session between them. John himself just breathed out and slowly stood up, still facing away from Yassen.

"Cossack," he said slowly, deliberately using Yassen's codename, "you do not have the discipline for SCORPIA, you treat it all as if it was a game but this is serious" John stood there quietly and calmly folded up his sleeves ever aware that Yassen hadn't moved since he'd started talking. "When you first joined SCORPIA I warned her, I warned Rothman that you wouldn't be able to cut it but she seemed to think you had some kind of flare. But one day, that flare's gonna get you killed, Cossack." He sighed, feeling a slight disappointment in Yassen. "Do you remember what I said to you on that first day we met?" Nothing. "Cossack? Do you remember?" Silence, John rubbed his forehead fighting off the drowsiness that was creeping up on him. "I said... 'never, _ever_..."

"...let you guard down." Yassen's voice finished the sentence but he was no longer by the far wall, no longer several metres away from John. The voice was just the quietest of whispers into the Engishman's ear. Yassen was there, right there at his shoulder and his hand, out of nowhere was at his throat.

"You should never let your guard down, John." Yassen's voice was a low rumble that should have come from a much older man but it was tweaked with a confidence that knew that Yassen had the power. And he did. With a quick powerful movement that John didn't think the teenager had the ability to do Yassen twist him round and shoved him against the wall by his throat. John gagged slightly at the pressure on his windpipe and it took a second or two to regain focus and he wished he hadn't, the look in the young man's blue eyes was full of passion and hunger and determination. Those cold eyes told John that the nineteen-year-old was as much a part of SCORPIA as him himself was and they both knew it. They shared a passion for the fight of which SCORPIA had a cold dark rock in it's place. After a moment of nothing the youth sprang back into Yassen's eyes and he squeezed John's windpipe a little.

Focused again John looked at his options, his right hand was twisted and trapped behind his own back against to wall but his left hand was still free and he brought it up to push Yassen away but Yassen had expected that and quickly grabbed his wrist and pinned it against the wall. John winced as the concrete jarred the bones in his wrist. But the movement had slightly freed his right hand and John tried to release it without alerting the Russian. However Yassen suddenly pushed John harder into the wall, using the full force of his body to pin him against it, unable to move. John managed to free his arm but with the pressure of Yassen against him he found it was to know avail and he suddenly didn't know what to do with his spare hand. Yassen then increased the pressure between them, somehow pushing their bodies closer.

"SCORPIA usually expects someone to come out of these shacks with the upper hand."

"I know" said John steadily.

"This isn't looking good for you, old boy."

"No. I don't suppose it is."

A mischievous glint flashed in Yassen's eyes even though at this point they knew that if Yassen even relinquished a little of the control he had John could and would easily turn the situation in is favour but for once he let Yassen keep the control. A couple of minutes on and they were still there, trapped in a pressure filled stalemate, somebody needed to tip the scales.

It was Yassen who did it, taking an unexpected move. He thrust into John, pushing into his hips and suddenly John's perspective flipped. The lean Russian's body pinned against his own was overwhelming, the pressure at his neck consuming and Yassen's warm breath sent sensations rippling over his neck. Yassen thrust again, pushing John to do something, anything in the dark damp cell. He thrust again and suddenly John found his spare hand gripping onto the pale flesh of Yassen's back showing underneath his t-shirt. Yassen smiled and thrust again and again into John, he nipped at John's exposed neck, the graze of teeth sending a shiver down his spine.

Then suddenly Yassen found the hand he had at John's throat had worked it's way round to the back of his neck. Taking advantage of his hand's new position he grasped what short bit of hair and pulled John in and suddenly John's mouth is crushed against his own and it's all heat and power and weight. And it's not kissing at all, it's wet and messy and Yassen still thrusts against John and it's just fighting still. Fighting on another level. John pushes deeper into Yassen's mouth and everything is so heavy so insane. Neither man knows why, they know it's madness but it's hot and heavy madness and it's still the fight.

And then, without warning John finds the power and pushes, pushes hard into Yassen and all of a sudden it's the young Russian who's crushed against the wall. And then stillness. Everything stops and eyes are caught and someone needs to make a move. Any move.

John moves.


End file.
